


architect

by thebrotherswholoved



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Domestic, Drabble, Family Fluff, M/M, Mpreg, Oneshot, Sibling Incest, Tumblr Prompt, Tumblr: thebrotherswholoved, Wincest - Freeform, architect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 19:30:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17147756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebrotherswholoved/pseuds/thebrotherswholoved
Summary: prompt given by @/say-yes-to-hole on tumblr:"Kid: Daddy, why do people congratulate you when Papa is the one making the baby.Dean: i helpedkid: how?Dean:kid:Dean: i read him the instructions."





	architect

It's a typical day at the Winchester house. Crayons are thrown across the kitchen table and a few have rolled onto the floor, the open-floor-plan-home smells of vanilla and crisp orange from the cinnamon rolls the three of them baked this morning, and the fireplace crackles in the main room. A lazy Sunday, as Sam calls it, and Dean has never been so glad he's not a church-goer.

 

The corners of Dean's mouth are still crumbly with white icing as he runs a hand through his sleeping brother's hair. The nerd had been reading a book about the riveting subject of cultural and religious morality before he passed out and began drooling on Dean's lap. It's not his fault, as he has been up since five o'clock (and he got up with him); besides, it's not like Dean minds having the sleepy head fall asleep on his lap. It's his favorite place to be, second only to...well, somewhere not PG enough to even think about around a kid.

 

He listens to Oliver hum "Fortunate Son" from the table while he colors and draws pictures like he has all afternoon. Dean's actually scared he might not have enough room on the refrigerator to pin all these drawings up. Oh, well—he'll just move on to the walls, then.

 

Sam wakes up with a start and nearly uppercuts his husband with his head when he sits upright, shaken by the sound of Dean's phone ringing. He answers the phone while Sam fixes his hair, but sees that it's a video call. Dean holds his phone up sideways to capture both of them as Charlie's face appears onscreen.

 

"Hey, bit—" she pauses when Dean makes a face and nods to someone off-screen, "—besties!"

 

"Hey, Charlie," Sam smiles and rubs at his eyes, automatically leaning into the older's shoulder. "How's it goin'?"

The redhead blows air through her teeth. "Ugh, I'm lonely. Dorothy is "upstate" for the weekend and I'm stuck here stroking Amy Pond against her will and sulking."

 

"God, I hate that you named your cat Amy Pond." Dean grimaces. "But I'm sorry about Dorothy. Sammy and I are kinda like a package deal, y'know? I'm like a parasite, I just kind-of latched onto him."

 

"I consented," Sam points a finger at his husband. "Why don't you go out with friends or something, leave Amy Pond at home?"

 

Charlie leans back in her chair and sighs. "All my friends are dead, kissing under the mistletoe, or are out having lives. Besides, it's cold out there and I've got my Trekkie jammies on."

 

"Livin' the dream," he runs his hair through his sandy blond hair. "Oh, have you seen the new Doctor?! I'm married to a man and I can confidently say that I would hit that."

 

Sam nods. "I'm the man he's married to and I think she's beautiful."

 

"Swoon," Charlie fans herself and laughs. "I miss my heckin' girlfriend, not Jodie Whittaker. I have no purpose—even Amy Pond hates me."

 

"That's not true! She just..." Sam trails off and gets a blank look in his eye. Hoisting himself up off the sofa he power walks to the bathroom with a hand over his mouth. Dean makes a move to stand up but the taller holds a finger up to him and he sits back down, eyes lingering on the bathroom door.

 

"Uh, is Chewbacca okay?" The redhead asks with concern lacing her voice.

 

Soon enough, she can hear the door open and heavy footsteps heading towards the main room. She watches as Dean asks if he's okay, but she can't hear his response. All she knows is that it's enough for his husband to nod and smile, tucking him back under his arm. Sam raises his eyebrows at her and she scoffs.

 

"Dudes, is nobody gonna tell me why Giganto is puking his guts up or not?" She asks, adjusting the phone in her hands. Dean looks at Sam, who shrugs and smiles a bit when the older man's eyes roll down to his midsection. She puts a hand over her mouth in shock. "Oh my god."

 

"What?" Sam asks. He's half-confused given the fact that neither of them have revealed anything yet, but laughs at her response regardless.

 

"Are you—you're—" She trails off and grins in the end, giving both of them a knowing glance. "Are you pregnant again?"

 

Sam and Dean both lock eyes and slowly nod, Sam gaining a large smile across his face. "We were waiting to tell anyone until I'm at twelve weeks, but...ah, what the hell, that's in two weeks anyway."

 

"Gah! You guys!" Charlie first pumps the air and laughs. "Sam, oh my _Zod_ , you're pregnant again!"

 

"Yeah," he fake-winces while rubbing his stomach, "trust me, I feel pregnant again."

 

This remark just makes her cheer louder. "I'm gonna have another tiny human to spoil! Dean, way to go, man!"

 

Blushing bright red, Dean looks down when Sam snort-laughs. "Yeah, like I did that much."

 

"You helped," she wags a finger at him. "Anyway, I've gotta go, biatches. My spoiled cat wants food. I'll be invading your home sometime in the next week or two at a random time, so get my Star Trek sheets ready!"

 

Sam nods with a chuckle and waves goodbye. In her nerdy self, the redhead makes a Spock hand gesture before ending the call, and the two boys smile at the peace and quiet.

 

They love Charlie with everything they have, but they are not twenty-six anymore and they don't have that lesbian magic that makes them never get tired. Plus, one of them has a bun in the oven, so his energy is quartered for the next few weeks until the nausea fades. Even with Oliver his all-the-damn-time sickness (because the morning just wasn't enough, apparently) was horrendous, so Sam gets to claim a handicap on all things exhausting.

 

Just as they begin settling back into silence, Ollie calls out from the table where he's drawing a picture of his family in front of the Impala—except, Sam's holding a baby in his drawing.

 

"Daddy?"

 

"Yeah, buddy?" Dean looks at their son over Sam's head, which is fully nuzzled into his chest.

 

Making one last mark with a blue crayon before switching to green, he looks up with sceptical green eyes. "Why do people tell you congratulations when Papa has the baby in his stomach?"

 

Sam can't stop the laugh that comes out of his mouth and his husband turns beet red at their son's question. He's only six, why did he have to get Sammy's smarts?

 

"Um..." He drawls in a pitch higher than normal. "I helped...with the baby."

 

The brunette child quirks his head to the side and scrunches up his eyebrows—god, they have to stop leaving him with Uncle Cas (he called his friend a 'fellow homo sapiens' the other day and Dean had to hold in laughter when the teacher glared at him).

 

"How'd you do that?"

 

Sam is nearly dying with laughter at the situation and waits to see how his husband will handle it. Dean clears his throat and smiles an awkward smile. "I read him the instructions."

 

"Oh," Ollie whispers. "So you gave him the blueprint?"

 

The older tenses up at the remark and feels the awkwardness surge through his veins. "Mhm."

 

"Like an architect?"

 

"Yeah, bud," Dean nods and tries to stop the blush from rising in his cheeks when Sam puts a hand over his crotch.

 

"And you used this pen to write these 'blueprints,' didn't you?" He smirks and moves that same hand to his stomach.

 

Dean mimics the motion, kissing his husband's temple with a sigh. "You know it. I'm your favorite architect."

**Author's Note:**

> I loved this prompt so fucking much oh my god.


End file.
